


happy ending

by eganov



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Depression, I Can't Actually Write Characters, Mental Illness, Mental Institutions, Mentioned Alzheimers, Multi, Oral Sex, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Physical Abuse, Porrim Is Not Actually More Slutty Than Motherly, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Sibling Incest, Smoking, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, The Pyropes are lawyers, Theyve got their own firm, unreliable narrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-09
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-04 17:31:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/713256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eganov/pseuds/eganov
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You once were delusional with the stories of childhood, wherein magic existed, princesses were held in towers and valiant princes came to their rescue and gained eternal and true love with their own brand of "happily ever after."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Eridan

Your name is Eridan Ampora, and you are 20 years old.

You once were delusional with the stories of childhood, wherein magic existed, princesses were held in towers and valiant princes came to their rescue and gained eternal and true love with their own brand of "happily ever after." Once you had believed yourself one one of those valiant princes, with your princess being the most beautiful, gentle, kind and, frankly, perfect girl you'd ever met; your best friend. Or rather, ex-friend, as you keep on having to remind yourself when the rude sensation of isolation and despair wash over you when you realize when she had dismissed you in your entirety after you'd almost flipped a lid on them and killed them. Everyone had renounced you from their lives. You were all well and painfully alone. You had believed in these fairy tales, had believed in magic and happiness...

Now you aren't so blinded. Now, you wish you could be as you once were. But you can't, oh, you can't, and it hurts. Oh, how it hurts. More often than not you end up intoxicated or high, and it was a well spoken agreement between you and your elder brother that he would bring you a six-pack every few days with no questions asked. You were skipping out of college. The only person who cared to bring you any news of the outside world is your wretched brother. But you only call him wretched to reaffirm what little wealth you may possess in your being (even if you are conscious that you have none).

"Hey, chief."

You lift your head, slowly, blinking blearily at the door through the choppy darkness, blotched with occasional stains of the outside light, of a world you shut yourself away from. You did not belong there. You unconsciously refused to; after all, there was nothing left. You vaguely wonder, then, if he had been knocking while you were locked in your reminiscing. Standing up drunkenly, you manage a slow stagger to the door, opening the several locks and cracking the door open to see him giving you that same judging, concerned look - the look that you hate so very much. You scowl, and move aside, letting him enter your miserable paradise. He cringes, setting down the six-pack as you sit back down next to your previously abandoned bottle of borbon (a special gift from an old friend) and pour a glass.

"So how do you want me to pay you this time?"

He gives you a mute look, almost forlorn, and you simply sit impatiently. You proffer the glass and he accepts it silently. Frankly, you did it on purpose; you know he dislikes drinks that are too strong. So it amuses you when he tries to mask his choking coughs as it burns all the way down. He glares at you and you smirk, obediently sliding down on your knees. He steps forward, making it so that your face is right up next to his crotch.

"You know vwhat to do."

You sink to your knees, and start to unbutton his pants, looking up at him as he looks down at you as if he'll regret this. You know he more or less does, especially since he not only enables your destructive behavior, but hes also almost certainly cheating on his little Vantas. You don't fucking care.

This is really the only thing you have left to give.

 

 

You pull his pants down, and he threads his fingers in your hair as he grits his teeth slightly, feeling you rub your palms over him through his boxers. You know it bothers him when you do it, so you gently palm him, breathing irregularly, face flushed and hot-red with the alcohol as your knees chafe slightly against the crusting, creaking floorboards. He growls deep in his throat, and you look up in the dim illumination to see the vague contours of his face contorting in a dizzy snarl. You can feel his arousal straining against the fabric, now, and you can only smirk as you pull his boxers down to his knees, licking your lips for moisture as you stare at one of the more familiar parts of his anatomy. You wrap one hand around him, thumbing the head lightly and stroking him down to the base, feeling the tickling of small, curly hairs against your knuckles.

You can feel his hands clenching your red locks as you drag your tongue up his length, shivering as you listen to the groan he makes. You move your hands to his hips, holding them tightly as you run your lips up the underside of his arousal. You take in a sharp breath, and then open your mouth as you slide him inside your mouth, feeling how he shivers because of you. You hollow your cheeks and you start to bob your head, languidly, and he's bucking into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat and holding your head in an iron grip. You clench your toes, feeling your face flush with heat as you clench his hips a little tighter, but not restraining. You feel yourself responding, your body growing warm and feel sweat starting to gather at your brow and hairline. Your thighs tense up as you shift to be better situated against the ground, pressing your tongue flat against him. He swears at you, and you just moan, and he bucks harder, sinking himself completely inside. You lightly scrape your teeth against him and he pulls your hair. By now you're hard and you're desperate for some contact, so for a moment you consider reaching down and relieving yourself. But he barks an order for you to not touch yourself and you whine around him, shivering as you clench your eyes shut and obey him.

He hisses at you and starts to buck rougher, and your throat starts to ache slightly. You suck around him and he trembles, continuing his increasingly irregular thrusts. Your toes curled as you felt the hairs tickling your nose and lips, face scrunching up slightly as he made a few more jerks of the hips, becoming increasingly vocal. Then, you tensed up as you felt him releasing, warm fluid stinging the back of your throat. He pulled out, some flecks of cum falling on your face and lips, and you merely look up at him, face hot in irritation and arousal. He glances down at you, his eyes blazing flecks of murky gray. You look at him as he works himself back to full hardness.

"Get on all fours, kid."

His voice sounds heavy but you don't question it. You simply follow his order. You always do.

 

 

He's pulling his jeans up when you're popping open a can of the beer he'd brought you, keeping the bourbon for last resorts and special occasions. You try to ignore the soreness between your legs as you rummage through a pile of dirty laundry. You're looking for your pack of cigarettes so to be able to offer one to your visitor. He gruffly takes it, lights it, and blows out a thick smoke into your face with a heavy sigh.

"You're throwving evwerything avway, chief."

You make a warning sound in the back of your throat, a sound of agitation and aggression. He sighs and shakes his head, as though he actually gave a fuck about your future. He looks back, once, but you wholly and completely ignore him and everything he represents in your shitty life.

"I'll be back to check on you soon, bro."

You would like to tell him 'don't waste your time,' but he's gone before you fully realize it. You lick your chapped lips, trying to wipe off any stray flecks of cum that the fucker might have left on your face, looking mistily at the door, and you sigh as you turn your back to your can, allowing it to presume its birthright as a constant in your failure of a life. The way things once were, tantalizing with magic and princesses and you as the the bravest prince of all seem so far away, and you can't be bothered to pull yourself out of your well of well-earned self-pity.

You consider the possible actions you can take, as you've always done. You can continue to stake cowardice, and prolong your stupid, miserable excuse for a life a little longer. Or, you could plot your demise. The part that scares you is your lack of desire to actually die. But, conflicting with that is your lack of desire to actually continue living, either, because frankly, you're not even living. This can't be living, not when you know there is actually a better life outside of this shitty house condemned to demolition. You only have a phone because your brother insists you have one. You only still talk to anyone because your brother visits you regularly. You only still live because your stupid, pitiful brother takes the effort to peel away from his now comfortable life with Karkat's brother (and to say the name rips you open all over again) to come to your shitty abode to feed you.

You're so tired of this. Emboldened and empowered (and yet all the opposite all at once), you stand, and limp over to the bathroom, dragging your feet against the molded, gritty carpet in the hallway. You look for something, anything, that could end the pain; the lamp that you leave in the shitty excuse for an ablution facility flickers, as this pathetic building does not have any lighting (and its better that way, because the less light and outside influence on you, the easier you can be forgotten) and casts an eerie glow on everything as you shove boxes and shavers and toothpaste onto the ground in an inebriated frustration. In your rage, you find the medication you never finished taking, for when you broke your leg a year ago; Cronus must not have thought to take it away. With a miserable countenance, you trudge over to the kitchen, situated near the front door, and grab the bottle of bourbon that you had only just put away. You suppose this constitutes as a special occasion.

You methodically, rhythmically pop each pill past your lips, grimacing at the bitter taste of them starting to melt in your mouth. You speed not, however, through this simple task and when your mouth is full you take a huge gulp of the alcoholic substance you'd only just grabbed and oh, hell, it burns, oh, how it stings and burns and hurts. You slam the bottle onto the counter, listening to the sharp sound of glass clattering on cracked granite, and your not sure which breaks but you hear the sound of something breaking.

Perhaps, you hope, as you slowly lose your balance, sinking to your knees, clinging onto the counter after you'd let go of the bottle you may or may not have broken—resolving to lay there in a nauseous wreck until hell freezes over—you could get your happy ending after all.

  

* * *

 shaking ~~—~~ crying—screaming your name ~~——————~~ your name? ~~——~~ what is your name ~~—-~~ you

are floating

being carried?

shaking ~~————~~ shaking ~~———————~~

swearing ~~——~~ lisping—

grievous weeping—wretching—smells ~~——~~

antiseptic ~~——~~ DEATH—illness ~~————~~

needle thin pricking—

chaos


	2. Cronus

Your name is Cronus Ampora, and you are 25. You didn't want this to ever happen.

You once were delusional with the stories of childhood, wherein magic existed, princesses were held in towers and valiant princes came to their rescue and gained eternal and true love with their own brand of "happily ever after." Unlike your brother, you no longer cavort with them, because you've already lived that dream. You had your 'happily ever after.' Almost.

It would be your 'happily ever after' only when Eridan was back on his feet and with his life back.

You and your brother were so strikingly similar in so many ways that it hurt to realize how quickly he deteriorated into nothing but a snarky shadow of a human being. You want to take him away, bring him home with you and Kankri. You don't want him to live in this miserable pit-stop anymore. You don't want any of this—he doesn't deserve any of it. You're almost glad that he doesn't live in a place with light; that way, he can't see how much it hurts you to see him reduced to a dark place that you already were in.

You never told him, that you almost took your own life, a while ago. You ended up sobbing in a rundown bathroom stall at the convenience store, and it was only coincidence that Kankri was there (supposedly, he'd went there to grab something for Karkat as the kid still couldn't drive, it was night, and even though Kankri was not fond of driving he still knew how in case of 'emergencies' so he'd taken the initiative to go down and pick up the snack himself) and that he'd found you. He'd gently pried the razor out of your trembling fingers, putting the palm of his hand on your cheek, wiping the bags under your eyes free of the tears that continued to tred down your reddened cheeks. He'd looked at you with this painful, guilty expression, and helped you up from your knees, before hugging you. And it had hurt, oh, how it had hurt for him to see you at your worst, in the deepest pit of that dark, dark place. It seemed to be a trend for you Amporas, really.

And that is why you are the most composed of the little group going to visit Eridan, only an hour at the most after you'd last visited him. You didn't even understand why these few individuals even gave a fuck. They didn't try to pull him away from this mess. They didn't keep him from "moving out" (actually, he'd run away from the house, and your uncle and grandfather were actually legitimately worried and it made you burn red hot in anger, in the way that your little prick of a sibling manages to make you feel with how fucking deep hes gotten in that cavern of isolation), nor did they keep him from falling to his stupid alcoholism (Eridan claimed he could stop whenever he wanted, and you knew then how fucking screwed he was, and he wouldn't let you in, so all you could do was wait until he completely shattered) and frankly you are so fucking tired of all of this. They were practically the ones that had pushed him to this. So what the fuck was it that caused them to come to you, asking oh so suddenly what ever happened to your miserable little brother, showing some sort of fucking care for the little bastard. And you hated them, oh, how you resented them for their flippant behavior, how all of a sudden after years of isolating him, they suddenly fucking cared. You didn't understand, you didn't like it, and now, seeing how they're reacting to this, you're even angrier.

Feferi is on her knees, and screaming. Karkat looks like he's going to be sick everywhere, and you probably have an idea why; half in part because of the nauseating stench of this rotting facility that had yet to be destroyed. Half because of the unmoving pile that is your god damn brother. Meenah's sister grabbed your brother by the arms, shaking him, sobbing and sniveling and you don't know what your fucking stupid relative ever saw in her. All you ever saw was a fucking hypocrite. But then again, you are horribly biased to your brother so that would explain your views, even if you hardly give a fuck. You can empathize with the little asshole better than any of these fuckers can. You sigh, heavily, feeling way too old for yourself as you sink to your knees, next to Eridan's form, and swallow as you realize that no, it wasn't just a bad dream, but that is a fucking bottle of Vicodin and its completely fucking empty. He's not fucking breathing properly. He feels cold and clammy and you wretch him out of Feferi's grip, ignoring how she screams at you. You step over broken bottles and cracked cans and you grimace, realizing how well and truly fucked you might as well be because this is all your fault. You've indirectly killed him. You enabled this to go on until this point and feeling him frozen in your arms, shaking and wheezing and slowly drifting towards death make your heart break. You hiss at your stupid, vulnerable little brother.

"You stupid fucking idiot. Vwhat the fuck're you thinking?"

He of course doesn't answer you, his head lolling back and as you step outside of his pathetic excuse for a dwelling, both you and he are illuminated by the headlights of Captor's car. Sollux himself steps out, when seeing you, and his eyes are wide behind those stupid glasses of his.

"Holy shit. Cronuth, pleathe don't fucking tell me—"

"He ovwerdosed on Vwicodin, you stupid bastard. Vwantas probably already called the paramedics by now."

Karkat comes out of the condemned building, shaking, holding the phone tightly and informs the two of you that he did in fact call the police. You nod, swallowing, and you don't realize how that you started to shake. Nor that Eridan is also shaking. You get on your knees, feeling your heart hammering still, and frankly you don't understand how you can be so fucking composed when your fucking brother is literally dying—

Oh, sweet fuck, he's dying—

"Shit, Cronuth what the fuck are you doing-"

You've put him down, on his knees, next to you. You're also on your fucking last wit here so you're desperately fucking hoping that you aren't going to fuck him up worse. You shove your fingers down his throat and he jolts, tensing up as he instinctively starts to wretch. You grimace, holding him tightly, and he's sobbing, breathily, as though he can't breathe properly, and he can't speak, can't breathe and oh, why did he do this, why did he do this?

You can see the flashing lights in the distance, rapidly closing in as you kiss his brow, whispering encouraging and gentle words to him. You try to hold him upright, try to wake him up, but he stopped. Stopped moving, stopped sobbing, and for a moment, he stopped breathing.

He's ripped from your arms before you realize you're crying too.

* * *

You listen to the doctor's diagnosis as you stare at the ICU doors. But you're not really listening at all. You couldn't go in—rather, you couldn't force yourself to. All you could do was sit here with the rest of Eridan's ex-friends, standing and staring at the door as they sat behind you, waiting. The doctor holds you on the shoulder, shaking you, and you realize that you completely spaced out; you can't feel your face, you can't feel anything, except this painful numbness. All you can think of is how dead he looked, how pale he was in the headlights. You're scared, so fucking scared out of your mind. You press your hand into your face and take in a small, shuddering breath, nodding slowly as the doctor says something else, and then you find yourself being sat down. You blink slowly, swallowing heavily and blinking slowly, trying to clear your mind, trying to think.

"Please keep a watch on him. He's suffering from an accute stress reaction-"

"Don't... fuckin' tell me vwhat I'm sufferin' from." You can't shake how airy you sound, but you grimace and finally look up at him. But then you see your brother's face again and you bury your face into your palms, sighing heavily. You feel so very tired and your head aches, and you still feel numb. You can't focus at all and everything seems very far away.

You startle when a large amount of red enters your vision, and you look up to see Kankri looking down at you in worry. You blink, once, and smile softly.

"Hi Kan."

He frowns at you, and sighs softly. You blink, feeling yourself starting to shake, and you're slowly animating, raising your hands and trying to speak but finding no words coming. You stare at Kankri, trying to say what you need to say; it seems he understands, though, as he lightly tugs at your sleeve.

"Come now, Cronus. I think you'd benefit from washing your face to clear your head."

You stagger to your feet slowly, not paying attention to anyone else. You let him lead you off to the bathrooms, and he rubs your back and turns on the water. He manages to coax you into splashing your face with cool water. You wipe your eyes, hunched over the sink, continuing to splash your face and rinse your face and eyes with the cool fresh liquid. After a few moments, he turns the tap off and you feel the gritty sensation of public bathroom paper towels nudging your arm. You grab it, pressing the towel against your face, scrubbing at your wetted skin before crumpling the paper into a ball and setting it on the counter. You pull yourself up lethargically and look at yourself in the mirror, exhaustion weighing at you.

You see a boy who grew up too fast, made too many mistakes, and might have just lost the most important person he'd ever had in his life. You see a boy with frizzy hair who looks to be completely done with the world, too exhausted, and too weary. And next to him, you see Kankri, and your little illusion bubble disappears as you succumb to the sudden spike of anxiety that comes all at once, tearing you asunder.

"Oh god, Kan—Kan, holy fuck, my—my brother—my owvn fuckin'—Eridan, he's-"

You were shaking and hyperventilating and on the edge of nervous sobbing. Kankri merely took you into his arms, holding you tight and balling his fists into the fabric of your dirty t-shirt. You merely were rocking against him, the shock taking you by storm, and you wept.

You are so fucking scared.

* * *

He had feathered kisses all over your face in an attempt to soothe your frayed nerves and cool down your panic attack with a shower of unusually high affection. Frankly, it was very welcomed, and had you not been in a state of mental ruin you might have milked the opportunity a little more. When you're calmed down, Kankri pulls away and gives you a once over, before nodding to himself and smiling a little.

"There we go. You seem to be improved and more stable, now." You nod, wearily, and close your eyes; you wanted to take the moment to bask in his presence. He pulls you back into reality by tugging lightly on your wrist.

"We should go back, Cronus. Your brother needs you."

Your heart constricts in your throat, and you want to disagree, but Kankri is filled with so much conviction that it hurts to disagree with him. So in response, you nod, slowly, before you speak.

"...Yeah."

He simply continues to smile gently at you, and you both exit back into the main lobby. Your shoulders are hunched and you feel so tired, hands shoved into your pockets. You continue to ignore the others standing around in the room. Kankri sits you down, distanced from them, and sits down next to you. He rubs your shoulder gently, speaking to you quietly but you'd really hear the words. They sound somewhat positive, though, so you just close your eyes and listen to him.

* * *

 Somewhere along the line you fell asleep. You slowly rouse with the feeling of someones fingers running through your hair and a gentle voice in your ear—and the strangely feminine tone to it had you reacting because it wasn't  _Kankri_.

"Cronus... Cronus, wake up."

You make a groan, and mumble something incoherent as you yawn, trying to push yourself back up. You blink, running a hand through your hair as you try to become reaccustomed with the waking world. You squinted blearily as you slowly regained control of your vision, and found yourself looking into Porrim's face.

"Por?" You look to the side and see Kankri, sitting sheepishly, his hand pulling away from your hair. You still feel drained and dazed. You don't really know what to think. "The fuck's going on?"

"Kanaya wanted to come and see Eridan," She replied. "I didn't want her coming by herself. Power in numbers, you know."

"Fucking Christ," You seethed, suddenly, feeling your anger from earlier resurface with a vengeance. You growl in your throat. "Should hawve fucking told her to stay home, Por."

She looks at you, insulted and hot-blooded, and before she begins to speak you cut her off. "No, don't you fucking dare to try and argue vwith me, Por, not now and not evwer, especially not on this fucking subject. Your fucking sister and all of their stupid fucking friends vwere the fucking  _cause_ of this, do you fucking hear me? I spent years, Por, I spent fucking _years_ trying to pull him out of the shell he'd retreated into but no, it vwas to no fucking avwail, and he wouldn't respond to me, God, he hasn't been sober in so long that I'vwe just been fucking vwaiting for this to happen because _I couldn't stop it_."

You shove yourself off of your seat, springing to your feet and circle her like a predator, cracking your knuckles individually—not in a preparation to beat her up. No, of course not. It was a nervous habit you'd picked up, one that Kankri was rather irritated by, but it helped to channel and relieve stress. You pop your wrists, and then your neck, before you growl.

"You tell me how the fuck you vwould feel if it vwas your fucking sister laying on the ground after trying to kill herself vwith Vwicodin! God  _damn_ it, it vwas already enough that I had to vwatch him go dowvn the same fucking path I did, Por, but to see him actually do vwhat I barely avwoided doing?"

You tense up, realizing what you'd said, and pale slightly. You quickly catch yourself on the rebound, hissing before she can get a word in. "I can't stand this, Por, and the biggest insult to the injury is your fucking sister being here vwith all the people vwho hurt him the most. This time I ain't lying, I ain't telling tall tales, I ain't making shit up to garner any fucking attention so just fucking listen to me vwhen I'm metaphorically getting on my knees here and begging you to  _make them go avway._ "

She swivels on her heels to look at you when you're making your rounds behind her, your circling by now turning into nervous pacing. She grasps you by the shoulders and you shrug her off, gritting your teeth. You feel the desperate urge to grab your cigarettes and go through the whole pack.

"God damn. I need a smoke. I'll be back in a sec."

You make a surprisingly cool-headed retreat, long and measured strides towards the nearest exit to the outside world. The chilly air would help calm you down.

* * *

Things changed. That's something you realized, like a rude shock to the face. You think of how you had been, how Eridan had been, and frankly, you wish that you were both how you used to be—you wish that time would reverse itself. You don't care that it would mean losing Kankri, you don't care so long as it would mean that Eridan wasn't caught in this mess by his own fucking hand. You inhale, deeply, feeling the smoke fill your being, a chill running up your spine as you exhale. You close your eyes, tasting the smoke, feeling the bitter solace that nothing else but this could offer you. You focus on breathing in, breathing out; you focus on this because there is nothing else you  _want_ to focus on. The air is cold, crisp, and moist; perhaps it'll rain soon. You can feel the atmosphere making cool little pin-pricks in your skin, but you don't fucking care. You welcome the feeling, welcome the chill to hopefully flush out the dread lingering inside you.

You jerk slightly when you feel your leather coat draped on your shoulders, and look to your side from the corner of your eye.

"...What happened to him, Cronuth."

Mituna's brother. Fucking fantastic.

"Vwhy the hell do you care, Captor."

He falters, and for a moment you see red. Instead of punching him like you so very much want to do, you close your eyes, and take in another drag. The silence drags out as you blow out, and you think there's something almost poetic in that. Perhaps you're getting too sentimental.

"...It'th not the thame without him around. We thought that it would be better with him out of our liveth. Thometimeth high thchoolerth do thtupid thingth. We didn't really realithe how bad we fucked up."

"He ain't mentally stable, Captor. Newver vwas. I'm pretty fucking sure you should realize this."

Sollux faltered for a moment, trying to think of something to say, and you bare your teeth, your patience already thin and merely growing thinner.

"You hawve fucking nerwve, barging into my quiet time, smallfry."

"Ekthcuthe me?"

You round about on your heels, need and sharp and well-executed as you leer at him, towering over him. Just because he was one of the taller ones of his group, didn't mean he was taller than you. "You heard me, shrimp. I hawve no lowve for you or any of your friends. I hate you vwith evwery fiber of my being. You vwere the fucking CATALYST for this to happen, and you—you could hawve left me finding a  _dead brother_."

He cringes and you roughly turn away, stalking out to the edge of the balcony. You think he left. But he merely walks up next to you, looking over the edge quietly.

"...You thaid that he went down the thame path you did."

You tense up and bite your cigarette, literally chopping it in half. Irritated at the loss of a perfectly good cigarette, you spit out the butt, disgruntled, and flick the other half onto the ground, crushing it with your heel. You pop out another, sticking it past your lips and pulling out the lighter. You cup your hand around it, to keep the flame from going out, and once its lighted you almost smile as you inhale deeply. You release the smoke in a sigh, closing your eyes, feeling the calm wash over you.

It occurs to you that Sollux hasn't left yet.

"...Did a lot of drugs an' shit a few years back. Tried to slash my wrists in a conwvenience store bathroom. Kan stopped me and sawved my life by pure coincidence." You laugh, dryly, and shake your head. "Nevwer vwould hawve thought, right?" 

You notice him staring at you, slack-jawed. "Tighten your jaw, Captor, unless y' vwant a bird to fly along an' shit in your mouth."

He clamped his mouth shut, brow furrowing. "Why?"

"Vwhy?" You close your eyes again. "Vwhat a stupid fucking question. Newver ask vwhy. The answver vwill make you vwish you newver asked."

He looks as though he wants to say more, but you shake your head. "Ain't your place to vworry anywvays. S'long done. 'sides, I got Kan to keep me around."

"Why Kankri, though? He'th really-"

"Say anything bad about Kan and I svwear to god I vwill rip your throat out here and now." He closes his mouth and looks at you. "You know exactly jack shit about him. Don't take your fucking Vwantas' word about my Vwantas. They might be brothers, but Karkat doesn't know shit about Kan an' frankly gets too fucking annoyed to evwen care. He. Sawved. My. Life. He actually listens to me. I actually listen to him, and he's got a lot to say. I lowve him, and that's all there is to say about that." You tug on your leather jacket, eyebrows furrowing, and you sigh, the cigarette burning down to nothing. You toss the butt on the ground again, still ignoring the fact that there is an ash tray nearby.

He follows you back inside without another word.

* * *

You're playing Temple Run on your cell phone with Kankri dozing idly on your shoulder, cheek pressed into your arm when a doctor comes out from behind the sliding doors. He approaches you, and you look up, Kankri rousing and blinking tiredly.

"Cronus Ampora?"

"That's the name," You respond. "Vwhat's going on?"

"Your brother has been stabilized for now. If you wish, you can see him."

Your heart is hammering in your chest again and your hands feel sweaty. You swallow and you realize its anxiety, again. The doctor merely waits, patiently, until—

"Are we allowed to come too?"

Fucking Peixes bitch.

"You stay the fuck avway from my brother, you hear me?"

You didn't realize that you'd gotten up and were leaning over her with a snarl until you saw her recoiling in fear. You glare, watching Leijon get up and pull her away, giving you a wary glance. You turn back, and grab Kankri's hand; the elder Vantas looks a bit surprised, and you nod.

"...Yeah. I vwanna see 'im."

* * *

He looks so pale.

You don't really know why it surprises you.

You are so scared, so upset, and the only thing you can do now is be led by Kankri to his side. The tubing going down his throat looks uncomfortable and makes you cringe. The needles and IVs in his skin make you tremble. He looks unhealthy, and too thin, and too small for the bed he's on. You want to cry.

You're so glad that Kankri came with you to give you solace. His hand on your shoulder is the only thing you have right now to keep you fucking sane.

You sit down next to him and hold his hand, and the only thing you can say is; "I'm sorry."

He probably doesn't hear you, but you pretend he does.


	3. Sollux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter sucks sorry

Your name is Sollux Captor and you are 21 years old.

You haven't actually paid much of a fleeting thought on your old acquaintance—old rival—until you were helping Feferi pack to move in with Nepeta and Aradia. You were scouring through old boxes, recovering undisturbed memories, when you stumbled upon an aged, cracked photo. It was an image of her old childhood prince, a young boy you barely recognized. Your heart clenched with a bitter feeling like regret as you realized the identity of the jubilant child who sat at the beach with your ex-girlfriend.

"Hey, FF," You call, idly, rummaging through the box for the rest of its contents. It's all to do with him, you realize, and you feel strangely sentimental. "What do you want to do with... thith?"

She waltzes over and her boisterous mood is almost instantly shot. She slowly moves her hand to grasp the frame, looking at the two figures captured by film. She sighed, gently, and sat down next to you.

"...I didn't reelize that I seal had all this," She says quietly. You give her a concerned glance. She seems almost remorseful. "I'm almost entirely unshore if we had made the right choice."

Her voice is wavering, and you curse gently, afraid that you had upset her by reminding her of him. "Here, let me jutht throw it out—"

"No!" Her refusal cut you, stilled you, and you looked over at her, confused and concerned. "Please, don't. Can we inveseagate what ever happened to him? I... I want to know what he's been up to all this time."

All this time. Hell, it had been a while, hadn't it. You didn't even take note that five years had passed. You frowned.

"Come to think of it, I haven't theen ED online in the patht yearth thinthe we cut tieth with him."

She gave you a worried look and you could tell that she was so, so, so very afraid. And it was a fear that clenched at you, too, those what ifs and the possibilities and the fear of losing someone you knew. It is what leads to Karkat receiving your inquisitive text message about Ampora's whereabouts. He doesn't reply for a while, but when he does it's a bit more foreboding than you wanted it to be.

'NO. I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING. WORD ON THE STREET IS THAT NO ONE ACTUALLY KNOWS WHAT HAPPENED. HE JUST...DISAPPEARED."

You go over to your apartment with Feferi in tow when you want to do some hacking to get tabs on this apparent phantom. You open the door to find Karkat waiting for you, with Kanaya, Nepeta, Aradia and Gamzee. The strange somberness to the set of his face makes your stomach drop into your feet.

"What'th going on?" You ask, softly, stepping into an almost suffocating atmosphere. Gamzee looks at you—no, through you, perhaps—and you notice the others looking at him in response.

"Karbro asked me about our missing motherfucker; said you wanted to know, right?" You nod, slowly, warily. You feel something is about to go horribly awry in your investigation. "I had connections to him up to two years ago before he went off the radar. Supposedly his elder knows where he is. Not sure why you wanna know though."

Feferi stepped forward, now, and you gazed at her in a cursory manner, more absorbed by Gamzee than anything. "What do you mean, Gamzee?"

"I mean, fish-sis," Gamzee drawled, adjusting his ski-cap on his head, tussling his messy locks of hair, "That Eribro's too far gone for you to reach anymore."

"The fuck are you saying?" Karkat hissed, almost irritable—almost scared, and it occurred to you, that even after exiling him, you still had some attachment to him.

"He is in a really dark place. He rolls hard, brothers, like stone. He ain't got any love for himself, not anymore." The statement drew a long, empty, cruel silence. You couldn't believe your ears, and you were growing hot under the collar as you slowly processed the idea of Eridan really going so far as to do something like hard drugs. You didn't think he was capable of that. You didn't think you were capable of driving him to that. You didn't know anything anymore, and it terrified the living fuck out of you. You were used to control—you were used to order, to things you could manipulate, to things that were predictable variables. But you were shucked out of your comfort zone, now, with this hard bitter truth and you were all well and truly lost. Then Feferi spoke up.

"What?"

He nodded to himself, sighing quietly under his breath. "He's in the deep stuff. Meth, heroine, cocaine, LSD. He don't fuckin' care anymore. Wouldn't be surprised if you ran upon his autopsy report by now."

Nepeta looks surprisingly crushed, Aradia looks nothing short of piteous, and Kanaya seems fairly unreadable. However, Feferi and Karkat seem to be completely resolute in whatever quest they have convinced themselves of accomplishing. Wordlessly, Karkat grabbed you and Feferi, and left your apartment without another word.

"Where are we going, Karcrab?" Feferi asks, and she sounds so hopeless, so despondent that it breaks you.

He shakes his head and sighs. "We're paying a visit to my brother."

* * *

Kankri does indeed answer the door when you three stand there, Karkat ringing the doorbell. He blinks in a pleasant surprise, and had he not possessed a more gentle sloping of the face—less wrinkles, none of Karkat's piercings—he could have been mistaken for his younger brother.

"Karkat?" He asks, curiously. He looks at you and Feferi and grows more guarded. "I take it you're not here for a social visit."

Karkat heaves a heavy exhale, rubbing his hands idly to fight off the furious chill. "I guess you guessed my intentions for dropping by unannounced. You hardly ever are this quiet."

He bristles slightly, and there's something almost dangerous to his disposition that blooms behind the careful mask he seems to have cultivated. "Get to the point, if that is how you're going to play it."

"Ith Cronuth home?"

He fidgets, and glances off to the side. "Who wants to know? You don't have any actual reason to be here, and I am very well aware that you made your point far too clear, Karkat, so I am not sure why you are coming to my house to seek answers."

Karkat looks stricken, and it takes you all of two seconds to briefly ponder what changed in the dynamic of the Vantas' relationship. Kankri used to revel in divulging Karkat with his knowledge. So what had changed?

"I know I fucked up, Kankri—"

"Hardly."

"And I'm sorry—"

"No, you really aren't." Kankri turns surprisingly defensive of himself, and offensive to Karkat. Karkat cringes again, ever so slightly, and you are only vaguely curious of how bad their fight must have been.

"Can I ask you vwhat you're doing at my house and harassing Kan for?" You noticed the subtle change in the way that Kankri carries himself; how relaxes, how his eyes flicker and regain some of their old warmth, though they seem more humbled than haughty. You turn and you shrink in your shirt at the sight of Cronus towering over you. The air is still chilly, crisp and biting, and Feferi stammers for an answer. He seems wholly unamused.

"We...want to know aboat Eridan."

He stiffens, and looking behind you, you notice how Kankri's jaw locks. You realize, slowly, almost painfully that it must be very taboo. With a slow, shared look, a silent conversation is held and Cronus heaves a miserable sigh. Kankri looks dejected, and you wonder what they had just convened over. However, your ever present need to snoop abates as Kankri stands aside. You realize his stance and his expression signify an invitation of entry under duress. You all enter silently, with Kankri closing the door behind Cronus. You find it peculiar that they don't share any intimate gestures and it gets your mind running again. Was it because of your presence? Or the subject of Eridan?

Cronus sits down heavily, with an almost incomprehensible regret. So you continue to stand, feeling as an intruder in their home.

"Vwhy the hell are you snooping around in my brothers life."

The judgmental tone, scorning and angry, hurt you. But you suppose that, in a way, he was entitled to it. Eridan was his brother, after all; you were only outsiders.

"We are his—"

"Nothing. You are nothing to him. Not since you gawve him up. Get out of my house.

You blister, hair raising on the back of your neck; you start to splutter an argument, intensely indignant.

"What the hell did you jutht."

Cronus looks murderous.

"You don't get to question me, Captor. I hate your brother, and I hate you evwen more."

Karkat looks down at his feet.

"We messed up, Cronus."

He stands, suddenly, and you have never been more intimidated of Cronus than you are now. He leans over Karkat, grabbing him by the shirt, and clenches his fists.

"You're one to fucking talk, Vwantas. You demeaned me to your owvn fucking brother in an attempt to break our relationship because you couldn't fucking see beyond your pretty little nose. You took vwhatewver stupid impression you got of my brother and pasted it on me. You don't know me, and you definitely don't know Kan. Stop pretending like you do, and stop pretending like you're fucking entitled to my fucking brothers life!"

Feferi looks in tears, and Karkat can't meet Cronus' eyes. The elder Ampora growls, almost animal-like in quality. He lets him go, after a few moments of glaring and scare tactics, refraining himself to pacing nervously.

You step forward and take your chance.

"Cronuth. We jutht want to make amendth. Okay? Are we not allowed that?"

He gives you this misty-eyed look and it takes you a moment to realize that he is legitimately on the verge of tears.

"No, you're not. You're not, because there ain't nothin' left in him t' make amends vwith." He presses his hand into his face, and shudders, swallowing. Kankri looks sympathetic to him, but stays his distance. "He hardly ain't drunk, an' vwhen he is sober it takes a shitload of time to get him drunk again. I can't hawve him not drunk because then he fucking cuts and I can't deal vwith him like that. He can't deal vwith himself like that. So I gotta keep 'im safe. Keep 'im avway from sharp shit, keep 'im avway from anything he can hurt himself vwith-"

"Why haven't you taken him to get professional help, Cronus!" Feferi cries, suddenly, interrupting his rant. "You can't solve anything by poisoning his liver-"

He pulls his shirt up and you three gasp collectively at the sight of the wounds there. Two scars on the side of his chest, like gills, mostly healed; they were carved into his skin.

"This vwas the first time I tried to take him to get help. He vwas on LSD. He didn't know any fuckin' better, he vwas hawving a really bad trip. He ended up doin' it to himself in some fuckin' tvwisted form of penance. It vwas a bitch to stop the bleedin', you know."

He turned, showing a cluster of bandages on his other side.

"This vwas a vweek ago, vwhen he vwas on meth, and I tried to take it from him. He drank himself into a fuckin' stupor vwhen I told him. Both times he refused to get help."

Your knees feel weak and you feel sick; and you don't understand what is going on anymore.

"How the hell can we convince him to stop?"

Cronus grinned. And then he sobbed, once, a sharp, barking sound, and there was some moisture building up in the corner of his eyes.

"You can't. You can only wait for him to break."

* * *

You couldn't believe it when you saw Cronus walking out of the house while holding Eridan. You couldn't believe it was _Eridan_. Your hands were shaking and you tried to compose yourself, but seeing the truth left you wide eyed and stricken in the worst of ways.

"Holy shit. Cronuth, pleathe don't fucking tell me—"

"He ovwerdosed on Vwicodin, you stupid bastard. Vwantas probably already called the paramedics by now."

You're trying to stabilize your breath, seeing Karkat walking out of the house still clutching his phone like a lifeline. You can hear Feferi bawling in the house, still, screaming and breaking. Your heart shatters a little more. But god, Eridan. Eridan looks like death warmed him over. He was getting worse. Oh, god he was—

"Shit, Cronuth what the fuck are you doing-?"

Cronus had put his brother on his knees, on the ground, before shoving his fingers down Eridan's throat. You tried to ignore the sounds of wretching as Eridan's body reacted automatically to the gag reflex. The acidic smell of gastric acid bit at your nose and you groaned, feeling a wave of nausea as you looked away, but not without seeing how Cronus grimaced and clutched Eridan close to him as though the world would burn if he disappeared. Maybe, to Cronus, it would. And that realization made you feel like hell. You tried to imagine if Mituna had ended up in this situation before cutting yourself off before you yourself went through a panic attack. You felt so helpless.

The paramedics arrived, the sirens blaring and blasting your ear-drums out, and they pull Eridan away from Cronus, why by that point is sobbing and seeing him in a state of shock like he is makes your stomach churn even worse. You try to steady your breaths as they carry one Ampora away, the other tailing, as a cop car shows up.

You feel your blood running unnaturally cold.

Oh, god, this was not going to end well for Cronus. Or Eridan. Or anyone. You feel nauseous.

Instead of throwing up like you so desperately want to, you go to collect Feferi after giving a statement to the police. Feferi is in too much emotional despair to give a statement properly. Karkat lost his voice entirely, even as the one who called in the emergency. They were both worrying you; Karkat was pale, way too pale, almost like a white bedsheet in coloration. Feferi was shaking too much, unable to enunciate properly, and you were unsure of why you hadn't just left this ghost of your past to die in peace.

You wondered why you got involved again. And yet you couldn't help but hope Eridan would be okay.

* * *

When Cronus heads back inside after what could be called a heart-to-heart talk, your head is literally spinning. You can't really think well besides what you'd learned. Cronus attempted to kill himself. Kankri and Karkat were almost estranged? He hinted at it. Kankri saved his life. Eridan and Cronus were almost the same. Cronus must have fucking suffered so much as a result of this.

You feel even worse when realizing that Cronus would probably face jail-times.

You'd hung out with Terezi too much to not know what Cronus had done.

Eridan is still a minor.

Eridan wasn't supposed to be drinking.

Cronus would get the blame and the fines and the jail time and it would only break Eridan more.

You don't know what to do anymore.

All you could think of is the image of Cronus sitting in a fucking bathroom stall in a convenience store, bawling his eyes out as he held a razor in one hand. The thought makes your mind wander to Eridan. You wonder if he cried. You wonder if he screamed. You wonder what he'd thought right before he lost consciousness. You wonder if he knew you had come back for him to find him like this. You wonder if he cared how badly he had hurt Cronus by doing this. Frankly, you wonder if he thought he was hurting Cronus at all, or if he was simply doing Cronus a... a _favor_. You wonder if he'll ever wake up.

You feel a hand on your shoulder and you look over your shoulder to see Karkat, looking up at you with his ghostly pale face and heavy bags under his eyes.

"Hey, KK."

He smiles, but he doesn't say anything. You're pretty sure he went temporarily mute from shock, but then he manages to say something, soft and quiet with a hoarse, raspy tone.

"...I really fucked up, Sollux."

You sigh softly, before ruffling his hair. Instead of arguing and complaining as he normally does, he just lets you do it. It's almost unnerving, really, and you manage to not pull your hand away in a manner which would convince someone you'd just been burned.

"Thith ithn't your fault, KK. It'th all of ourth. The nektht thing ith to figure out how bad it all really ith. And if Eridan even want'th uth back in hith life."

You really hope—at least for Feferi and Karkat's sake—that Eridan would want you back.


	4. Eridan

It's all strangely numb when you awake. Your vision is overcome with blurriness and you feel somewhat nauseous. You take in a slow, hesitant breath, your throat burning with acid bitterness. You feel fingers brushing through your hair and you don't know how to feel. You are simply dizzy, tired; that's it, oh, that's perfect to describe it. You are simply so, so very tired of all this.

“Hello, Eridan.”

You're a bit surprised at seeing Karkat's elder brother, however.

“Kan'ri?”

Your tongue is dry and sticky and you can't find the effort to properly articulate. Not to mention that the tube going down your throat makes it very hard to do anything but mouth what you intend to say. Everything comes out in an unpleasantly wheezy, barely there tone. He smiles despite himself and despite the reality of what you did to yourself weighing heavily over your whole excuse of an existence. He decides to ignore that, and that is something that makes you feel a bit more comfortable in your skin. He simply continues with the comforting gestures, smoothing your hair back.

“I suppose you're not entirely accustomed to the brightness. Do you wish for me to turn the lights off?”

“T'would be ni'e.”

He takes your airy, mostly mumbled response with a grain of salt, standing up effortlessly and going to the light panel, flipping the switch and casting your special little room into a pleasant swath of darkness. You sigh, contentedly, closing your eyes as the pounding between your eyes recedes ever so slightly.

“Wha're you doin' 'ere?”

You blink, sluggishly, and you realize that you may or may not be blinking very unevenly. Everything is spinning and fading, almost in an annoying, laggy stop motion. He keeps himself mostly still, to your elation, and keeps his eyes close as he inhales slowly. You just watch, your throat still burning.

He completely ignores your question for a few moments, and instead addresses another of your more pressing issues in that moment. “Would you like me to call a nurse to remove the tubing?” You shake your head, nostrils burning as you inhale again, almost eerily conscious of how you are breathing with assistance. It sends a shudder up your spine and you hate it. But, you'd rather be alone with Kankri for a little while longer, at the least. You would prefer this peace to last as long as you could make it last before everything went to hell.

“...Well, alright,” He says after a few seconds of reluctance, and simply gives you a saddened look, resuming the stroking on your hair. You sluggishly look at the ceiling, breathing evenly--a bit robotic in a way--

“So.” He pauses for a few moments, looking almost physically pained as he thinks of something to say, fishes for words in his desperation to fill the void of emptiness in the air. You rasp, making a gross wheezing sound and he gives you this concerned look that makes you want to wretch.

“Why--” You try to ask, but it comes out as a soft breath rather than anything intelligible. You think that he gets the message.

“Cronus cares about you, contrary to your belief.” You know that. You know that he cares, you know that he tries, you know that he’s better than you and the worst part of it all being that everyone fucking believes that he’s some sort of creeper that no one likes and that wants to get laid at every drop of the hat. You hate that about him, that he lets them think like that, that he doesn’t do a single thing to change their minds. You groan, shuffling under the sheets, squinting in the darkness to see Kankri giving you a look as though he were a deer in the headlights of the most dangerous hunter and knew it.

“Know ‘at. Why.”

He bit his lip, clearly trying to avoid speaking of something. He opens his mouth once to speak, clamps his lips shut, and then tries again. He moves the hand that isn’t rubbing your forehead - almost like a parent, you think belatedly, and its interesting how familial Kankri is behaving with you just because you’re the brother of the guy he decided to spend the rest of his life with. Kankri was always pretty gentle, you think, even if he had a quicksilver tongue and a talent to debate when his conversational partners weren’t being put to sleep... or squabble with Porrim. You smirk, tiredly, and just relax into the mattress, listening to the slow beep of the heart-rate monitor hooked up to your numb form.

“I would prefer not to speak further on certain topics, Eridan, and I’m sure you understand. I have been trying to grant you the courtesy of silence and lack of confrontation and I would sincerely appreciate if you returned the favor.”

You nod, slowly, glad that he actually came out with it and asked straightforward.

“A’course.”

He looks as though he’s been relinquished of a painful weight that had been looming over him, ready to crush him at a moments notice. You wonder, vaguely, what he knew and what he’d experienced to make him so aversive of speaking of it, and wondered why he didn’t want to tell you. You were mostly okay with it, though; that he didn’t want to speak to you in regards to whatever he was hiding, anyways. After years of meddling and prying coming back to spit on you right in the eyes, you were pretty well accustomed to not interfering.

You close your eyes, feeling him brush the strands of hair out of your face, almost as though it were a task assigned to him by some god he was wholly unworthy of; you wouldn’t be surprised if he were watching over you for Cronus’ sake.

“Where’s...Cro?”

You have to pause in the middle of your sentence, voice cracking as your already irritated throat is strained further. You grimace, making a hacking cough and he squeezes your shoulders in a comforting manner.

“I sent him home. Frankly, he looked absolutely terrible and smelled as much, too. You would have been glad I sent him away to get some rest.”

You smile, despite yourself; you’re glad that Cronus ended up with someone who actually looked after his fucking health because you knew, you knew that he was just like you and that fact hurt almost unbelievably so. At least he had someone who would properly care for him. “Yeah.”

He grows silent again, and you can almost feel his eyes boring almost directly through you. You aren’t offended, surprised, or anything. Frankly, you just remain there and exist passively, not even feeling a pinching anxiety at being scrutinized so.

“You seem tired, Eridan. I would suggest that you rest some more, too. Cronus would not appreciate it if you kept yourself awake.”

You can barely hear him as exhaustion encumbers you and drags you into its tantalizing throes.

* * *

You awake again, but you don’t open your eyes immediately. The room is bright again, and there seems to be an argument occurring. The volume of their voices and the acidity in their voices make your ears ring and your brow furrows. You make a vague note that Kankri is still sitting next to you, and brushing your hair. Almost as if he is trying to coax you into continuing to sleep. Frankly, Kankri reminds you a lot like a worried mother at times. He has the uncanny ability to make you feel safe. It makes you almost sorry that you fucked your brother behind his back on a near biweekly basis.

Still, the intimate contact makes it impossible to regret your past mistakes. You needed that to survive as long as you did.

“You vwont fuckin’ get inside this fuckin’ room, vwould you just get avway and leawve my brother the fuck alone?”

“You can’t keep him sheltered forever, Cronus, would you just let us fucking see him?”

“You ain’t nothing like your brother, Vwantas, so just accept defeat and retreat like you did from my brothers life years ago.”

You get this nauseous sensation that wipes away any serenity you could feel. Whatever medicine these assholes are pumping through your bloodstream is making you groggy. You make a whimpering noise in the back of your throat and Kankri recoils, alarmed.

“Cronus-!”

Footsteps echoed, sounding rather hollow to your ears, and everything was doubling, swerving in your vision as you cracked your eye open to see the familiar shock of red hair you associated to your brother. You grip his shirt, rasping and a sense of panic and anxiety overcomes you as his eyes widen and gaze at you.

“Eridan, vwhat’s-”

“Cro-”

You close your eyes, rasping, wheezing, and he looks utterly helpless. You hate it so much.

“Cro, ‘m sorry-”

You are sorry. Sorry that you put him through this. It would have been so much easier for him if you had successfully died. It would have been so much easier for him if you hadn’t attempted at all. But something changed and something broke and you couldn’t change that. He just murmurs something softly against your shirt, head bowed and shoulders shaking.

The moistness against your chest, quickly growing, makes your heart sink as you realize he’s crying. He doesn’t make a sound, but you know he’s crying and you know its your fault. You sigh, wearily, rasping, petting your brothers back, hugging him because its the only thing you can do. You feel completely like shit, and you guess that you were forced unceremoniously into the role of the villain. You suppose it’s really only fitting. You don’t know what to do anymore.

“Eridan?”

Your heart lurches in your chest and you pale instantly, your murky eyes fixing on the form of the gray-clad Vantas. Kankri looks at him, alarmed, and definitely irritated, but Karkat only looks morose. “Eridan, bro, I-”

“Get out, Karkat. You might do something you’ll regret, or you may unnecessarily trigger Eridan into a fit. I do believe that you’ve already sufficiently played your part, and this is a crucial time for them. It is not your place to fulfil your desire for repentance. Cease and desist.”

Kankri getting defensive for you has both you and Cronus watching as Kankri gets up from his chair, going over to Karkat who flinches. You wonder what the fuck you actually missed, what happened between the two Vantases to make Karkat so flighty in regards to his elder brother. However, he doesn’t seem to want to stick around to receive any further scolding and absconds like a wounded dog, a look that you can only describe as regret on his face. You, however, are not sorry to see him leave. You feel the weight lift off you, sighing bitterly as you relax. Now it’s only the people who actually seemed to have given a fuck in the darker parts of your life.

“Cro...”

Cronus shakes his head, pressing his hand against his face before managing to look up and meet your glance. Your breath hitches when you see the shit-eating grin haphazardly placed on his otherwise miserable face.

“Nah, chief, s’okay. Jus’ get some more rest, okay?”

You do actually feel the still lingering exhaustion. You nod, slowly, and blink rapidly in an attempt to keep yourself awake.

You fail, but you suppose it’s alright now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry, a bit of a filler chap here


	5. Karkat

Your name is Karkat Vantas; you're 20 years old, and you fucked up.

Oh Lord, did you fuck up.

You cannot begin to express how terribly you fucked up, and the worst part is that you have no way to make up for it. You are almost completely ensured that you took any and every chance you had to make up for your mistakes and fucked it all up. You sit among your friends in silence, staring listlessly to the ground below your feet. You feel horribly disheartened, and your drive is all but nullified.

"I can't believe this."

You barely recognize your own voice. You sound so strange, your voice light, airy, and intangible. Nepeta, such a good friend she is, is quick to pet you on the arm, shushing you gently and attempting to soothe and assuade your negativity. Sollux looks mutely at the door, feeling piteous of himself, if his expression is any indicator. You huff, dourly, and reach over to poke him on the arm.

"Hey, asshole, you holding up alright?"

He slumps, defeated in a way exclusive to his own deigning, brow furrowed as he rubs his neck. You recognize that look and resignation.

"We don't have any way to fikth thith."

You nod slowly, and look down with him, unsettled. You don't know how to say the words to make this better; you don't have any way to fix this. You just sit there in regret and hatred--only for yourself--and you don't register anyone else even being there. Only you and your monumentous failure. Only you and your mess.

You quietly dismiss yourself, trudging off to the restrooms, feeling worn and achy. You hang barely from a set of strings, rubbing your neck being the only action you use your arms for. As the self revulsion and hatred consume you, you find yourself drowning. Your thoughts crash into far darker waters. You don't think anyone needs you. You don't think anyone wants you. Hell, you don't even want you. With an acidic taste in your throat, layered on thick on your tongue, you enter the bathroom, the urges rising yet again.

You wear long sleeves for a reason.

Pulling said sleeves up, countless scars--tiny and expansive alike--are revealed, criss-crossing your upper arms and loosely around your elbows.

You wonder, vaguely, as you pull out the pocket-knife from your pocket, what would happen if you cut a little deeper, a little longer, a little lower, or if you just rose your target to something more vital--

Your hands are seized and you jolt out of your trance to see your carbon copy standing behind you, clenching your wrists in shaking hands. You don't look into his face as the dread sinks you in an icy, consuming sensation. You can't bear to. He squeezes your hands until you drop the knife. After some silence, he chokes something out with a teary, angry tone.

"How long."

You cringe, and he puts your cut wrists under the sink, turning the faucet on to let the soothing, cathartic water wash away your sin and misery. The blood goes down the drain a pale salmon tone.

"I'm--sorry."

You can't say anything else.

He doesn't visually respond to it until he speaks up on his own.

"...I. I'm sorry, that I didn't believe you."

You sob, once.

"I fucked up so bad."

Kankri smiled, and as you look directly into his reflection, you see how broken and guilty he looks.

"There's no reason to throw away your life, Karkat. Please, don't. I don't want us to become Eridan and Cronus too."

You're not entirely sure that the sobbing whine actually came from you, but the hug he gives you makes you feel a bit of self worth again; the first amount of any self worth you may have had in a long time. He bawls against you, and you to him, and its so surreal that you both are on your knees in a hospital bathroom with him holding towels onto your wrists.

"Why does everyone I love try to kill themselves?? Why do I have to save you? Why do I have to suffer everyones pain? I only want everyone to be happy..."

You choke, burying your face into the nape of his shoulder, staining his red sweater with unhampered tears. You blubber at him and try to voice your thoughts, but basically are left without any way of acting. You manage to voice silent apologies into his neck, and he simply continues to weep.

After the emotional catharsis, Kankri pushes himself up and you merely follow suit. He looks into the mirror and you mimick his action yet again. You both look miserable, and your faces are red, your eyes teary and blotchy, and frankly you look like shit. Kankri looks at you and you smile for some unknown reason, and for even more unexplained reasons you end up unabashedly laughing on each other to an almost hysterical degree. It's bizarre and, dare you say it, a show of insanity. But you laugh the pain away, clinging onto Kankri, and eventually you both calm down enough. The elder Vantas gives you a soft glance once you're both simply leaning against each other and the wall, and you give him a confused, questioning expression in return.

"Okay. I... I'll forgive you. I think--I think Cronus might come to terms with you, knowing--"

"No, no, he can't know Kankri, he'll hate me and cast me further away--"

Kankri puts his hands on your shoulders, in a way that silences your dissent. He shakes his head, sighs, and tugs you along out of the bathroom--pausing to grab the knife and keep it in his own pocket, if only for his own assurance that you wouldn't hurt yourself again--and you squawk, helplessness consuming you as he guides you somewhere.

You both step outside, and your body chills as you spy the shock of red hair that signifies your estranged friend's elder brother.

"Cronus."

He turns, and at first when he sees you, you can se how he puffs up in anger and intolerance. You want to escape. But then he sees your wrists, to which Kankri still holds towels to stem the bleeding, and he sees both of your faces. But, you assume, he probably sees Kankri's face more.

"Aw, Jeez, don't tell me..."

He nods, solemnly, behind you, and you jolt as Cronus approaches you, leaning down to be at level to grab one of your wrists and examine the cut you had custom designed.

"Vwantas, the fuck is vwrong vwith you?"

You finally snap.

"Nice of you to start giving a fuck, but you know what, I don't want your fucking sympathy and pity or whatever the fuck you want to give me, because you've made it clear that you don't believe me and I don't need you to! I am so fucking done with everything and it would be no fucking skin off your bones if I magically keeled over and-"

His fist connects with your face before you realize it, sending you reeling and he swears at you as you hit the ground. Kankri stands by, mortified, as Cronus seethes at you. You glare at him, wiping your mouth of blood from a split lip.

"You can stop being a fucking selfish bitch, Vwantas. Don't fuckin' lecture me on giwving a shit, and don't assume that I hawven't been around the same bend."

You look at the expression of pain and utmost misery in his being and for a moment you're lost for words. For a moment you you feel like you're looking through a mirror. And quite frankly, it terrifies you more than anything.

He breaks away from the stare and you scrub your mouth with your sleeve again and stand solidly on your feet, and then he stands up completely, straightening his back, and begins to speak again. "It ain't up to me to absolwve your vwrongdoings anyvways, kid. That's something reserwved to my idiot brother."

You don't understand why the thought of confronting Eridan terrifies you so much, considering that you had already tried to do that.

Maybe its because you know that the next time you see him, he'll know that you hate yourself as much as he hates himself and--

He'll know that you know that you fucked up.

You actually feel vulnerable.


	6. Karkat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> continued pov from previous chapter: karkats pov.

The next week leaves you with a mounting anticipation, and yet there's nothing you can do but wait. At the least though, you and Cronus managed to have a moment before agreeing to clear the board and forget the past and start on a blank slate.

When you are approached next by the elder Ampora, it's been more than four weeks. As a show of good faith between you two, Kankri graces you with periodic updates on Eridan's condition. The most worrying part of it is the vague mentioning of surgery. Something about organ damage due to the overdose. You asked, a lot. Mostly, he's been sleeping. A lot. His steadfast slumber was only interrupted with periodic, barely lucid wakings to do trivial things, like stare at the wall, since he really couldn't do much else. It was a bit depressing to hear Kankri's account of Eridan's only attempt to eat solid food since he landed in the hospital. Cronus usually talks to Eridan whenever he wakes, even if for a few moments, and it seems that at least Eridan's mental faculties are improving. He's still weak from everything; once he slipped into a coma and Cronus was on edge for the entire week that he was under. You had to actually remove Kankri from the hospital, away from Cronus' nerves, to give him a breather before he cracked under the pressure. You had to look out for your brother, afterall, for the two years you missed out after trying to ruin his life. You're glad he gave you a chance again. You won't fuck it up. You don't want to.

Sometimes, you worry about the legal issues, after hearing from Terezi and Sollux, and since Latula has some knowledge on the case being built against him, it proves to be both a benefit and a disadvantage for Cronus.

You think he has a few more wrinkles than he used to.

At least, or so you heard, she made a claim to the law enforcement that taking any action against Cronus while Eridan was in the condition he was in would merely hamper Eridan's recovery, and was tasked with observing his recovery from the sidelines. You're thankful for that, at least, and think that Eridan would probably be inconsolable without the one who did everything to sustain him. You almost feel bad for them, and for all of the trouble Cronus is going to go through. You wish that somehow you could make it all go away, but you can't. And so you simply keep yourself from getting involved.

When you spy the shock of red hair approaching you, you straighten up, looking at him; by your side, Sollux appears inquisitive if not exhausted.

"Vwantas."

"What?" You're curious now. What could he possibly want? He wasn't the type to seek you out for favors.

"He vwants to see you."

You feel your mouth dry up and you notice vaguely the others seem interested. Cronus growls under his breath. "And only you. Says he can't deal vwith evweryone yet."

"Why-?" You start to ask, but end up getting cut off as Cronus seizes you by the shirt, pulling you up onto your feet. He doesn't grace you with an answer, to your ire. Regardless, you just follow him, keeping your head subtly bowed as you attempt to quell your anxiety. Oh, god, oh god what if he called you there to denounce you completely, to tell you personally to get out of his life, to--

The walk was one that seemed to take forever, and by the time you got there you didnt even notice it until Cronus grabbed your shoulders and gave you a good shake. You didn't even realize you were starting to panic and you look up at him, and hes looking at you with this strange emotion. It's kind of how Kankri looks at you, sometimes, and for some reason it makes you feel a little more secure in this hellish gamble of possibilities.

"...Cro?" He sounds really weak as he calls for his brother from inside the room. Your mouth goes dry.

"Askin' you again, chief, if you're really up to this," Cronus calls back, and you realize he is almost literally walking on eggshells. You hear a raspy cough and your heart clenches. He sounds like he's still fucking dying.

"Yea-h. I'm. I'm certain."

You hate how his voice cracks. You hate how airy he sounds. You hate how broken he sounds. Cronus beckons you, and you follow him.

"Holy fuck, Ampora, you look like death."

He looks up at you, with hazy eyes, having upgraded from that horrible tube shoved down his throat to being a little more independent. He still has nasal cannula - and that makes you cringe like fuck, because you've always hated those and they make you uncomfortable - and still has IV's. The heartrate monitor seems to be running more steadily now. To your comment, he chuckles softly, raspy and barely audible. His red hair falls around his face, limb and dead, and hes really pale. It looks like he has bruises under his eyes, and they're redder and puffier than you remember. His freckles even look paler than normal. His lips are chapped and ghostly, and frankly he looks on the edge of skeletal.

"Tha-nks, Kar."

Cronus bumps you forward and Kankri stands up.

"Would you like time alone?" Kankri speaks in his soft, crooning voice; the one he used to use when you lived in the same house and you stayed up doing too much shit at once, when you were sick, when you weren't feeling well and when you were really fucking sad. It makes you envious that he's sharing that voice with Eridan, and then you have to force yourself to remember that Eridan is essentially family to him. And to you. 

You feel nauseous again.

"Y--yeah. Sure. S'ok. Go get somethin' to eat," He says. Cronus frowns at Eridan, and Eridan merely gives him a faded grin.

"Try to eat; they just took you off the drip. Soup, got it?"

"Yeah. Yeah, su-re."

You look over your shoulder to see Cronus and Kankri at the door, and then blink in surprise at the sight of Porrim there; Cronus seems to tense in apprehension, and Kankri merely appears tired as he seems to realize what she's there for. They leave, a group of three, and it sounds like Cronus and Porrim have already started to bicker about something.

You hear Eridan clear his throat and look back at him, seeing him grimacing as he holds his hand to his mouth. You move to the chair Kankri just occupied, sitting next to him and feeling saddened at the state he's in.

"Eridan, I-"

"Jus-- Le'mme speak." He rasps out, continuing to cough before he manages to calm his conflicted body. You sit in an uneasy silence, shuffling in your chair now and then like a child for a dentist's appointment. He reigns in his uneven, heaving breaths, before he relaxes in the bed, clenching his fists slightly.

"...You abandoned me."

You choke on your breath, feeling your heart sinking. He looks like he'd just ripped an improperly healed wound back open.

"You left me to die, and I almost did. An' yet... you came back. Came back at the moment I w-was finally gonna get rid a' myself. W-why."

"Because--" You clam up, and press a hand into your face. "...Because Sollux asked me about you. He asked if I knew where you were. And I didn't. I didn't and it got me thinking about all the good times we had before I made one of the worst mistakes of my life. And I wondered why I had ever thought that forfeiting our friendship was ever a good idea. I remembered what good friends we used to be. Remember, Friday afternoons at Starbucks?"

He actually smiles, but its so sad and it makes you hurt all over. "Yeah. I remember. Newer w-wanted to remember though. S'w-why I w-was newer fuckin' sober to fuckin' begin w-with. Can barely remember the past fiwe years. S'w-what Cro tells me anyw-ways."

"I'm so, so sorry. I can't fucking express how sorry I am. Fuck, Eridan, this was entirely my fault and-"

He cuts you off by grabbing your sleeve. You flinch, because you have a subtle idea of what he's implying. "Kar. Stop. Okay? Stop. I-I know-w you're sorry. I know-w, Kar, I know-w. Kankri...told me."

You feel moisture burning your eyes. He swallows, audibly, almost painfully so. "He lowes you a lot, Kar. Like Cro an' I. Difference betw-ween us is that you can actually see it, and saw-w it before it w-was too late."

"F-fuck. Jesus fucking  _fuck_ , I don't know how he could fucking love me, considering-"

"That you tried to break'em up. Yeah. I know-w that too. Cro told me. Still waguely 'member it. Came to me in a fuckin' rage before I fell off the face a' the earth." He licks his lips to give them back some moisture. "M-mind handin' me the bottle to your right?"

You comply, and he takes a quick swig, sighing. "Frankly bourbon tastes better. W-what're you gonna do."

"You--fucking hell, you can't keep on drinking, you can't keep doing drugs--"

He has a sudden edge to him that puts you on the defensive.

"Y'ain't my friend, Kar. Y'ain't my family. Y'ain't nothin' to me anymore. You can't fuckin' tell me w-what to do."

He doesn't even seem to realize what he said until he registers it completely and he looks as though he's been dumped in ice water. You feel like he ripped your heart out. He stammers, quickly, looking paler--that much actually shocks you, you didn't think he could get much paler--and he tries to rectify things. Almost as if he's afraid he's warded you off again.

"I-"

"Nah." You dismiss it quietly. "I kind of deserved that, considering how much of a shitty friend I was that I abandoned you. I did. I know I did. I didn't even fucking think much of it until Gamzee fucking told us how bad it got. Jesus fucking Christ, Eridan. He said he wouldn't be  _fucking surprised_ if we found  _your fucking autopsy_ _report_."

"Almost did," He responds scathingly, and you cringe.

"God DAMN it!" You slam your fist on the night-table next to his bed and he actually jumps. "Stop it, god fucking hell STOP that! You-- you're fucking demeaning yourself and you don't even realize how fucking much it hurts everyone who fucking cares about you! If not me, then fucking  _Cronus_  and my fucking  _brother_ and-"

He cuts you off again. Its a thing that you both seem to be falling into the habit of doing; trying to get a word in, that is. "I w-want them to leawe. I don't w-want them to w-waste their time w-with me. Ain't w-worth it," he says quietly.

"Yes," Karkat chokes. "Yes, you fucking are. I care about you. Sollux cares about you. Feferi fucking cares about you-"

"Don't FUCKING lie to me, Kar!" He roars, pulling himself up to sit. "You're fuckin' lyin', Fef was the one w-who FUCKIN' ORCHESTRATED IT! She ain't gonna ewer fuckin' care about me again and rightfully fuckin' so, because w-who W-WOULD care about me-!?"

He chokes up, and his hands fly to his abdomen. He slams himself back against the bed, his heart-rate rising rapidly as his face contorts into pain. Your eyes widen as a nurse rushes in, ignoring your presence and quickly moving to his side. "Mr. Ampora-"

"Fuckin' OW-W," He snarls, and the nurse pushes his hands away and lifts up the pale blue garb he's clad in. You grimace at the sight of a row of stitches over angry red swollen flesh, and the nurse presses his hands against it, looking up at Eridan's expression as he grimaces.

"You didn't rip the stitches luckily. Would you like to increase the drip of morphine?" He huffs to himself.

"Ain't gonna be fuckin' lucid if I do. I'll be fine. Thanks."

The nurse chides him a little more, warning him against excessive or sudden movement before informing him that they'll bring in lunch soon and leaving swiftly. He exhales, airily, and closes his eyes.

"Fuckin' sick of this place," He comments idly.

"Will you hear me out for a second, Ampora?" You ask, your voice low and edgy. He gives you a tired look.

"Do w-what you w-want, Kar. I'm listenin'."

"Sollux does care. Feferi does care. Shut up and let me talk, so help me I will punch you here and now." He settles back after bristling again, looking ready to argue. "Sollux was helping Feferi pack--she's moving in with Aradia and Nepeta. She kept a box of all her memories with you, you stupid bastard. She was the first one to question if our decision was wrong. She was the one to start this whole fucking thing. She was the one who poised the question about your whereabouts to Cronus. Not me, not Sollux even. Fucking  _Feferi_. She was the fucking one who found you first, lying in a puddle of alcohol with a fucking empty bottle of Vicodin next to your head. She was the one who fucking picked you up and started screaming and sobbing and begging you to wake up. She's probably the one who feels the worst about this, and she fucking misses you. She's barely slept, barely eaten, barely done anything unless Sollux, Meenah or I made her fucking do it. Do you get me? She. Misses. You. She fucking cares. We all care, we fucked up, we know that. You know we know. Why the fuck are you trying to deny it."

You run out of steam, finally looking at him after going through your whole rant, and you feel like shit. He's actually crying. He has a hand on his face, face contorted into a grimace, and silent tears continue to roll down his reddened, blotchy cheeks.

"Tryin' to deny it," He explains, choked up and heavy, "Cause I ain't fuckin' w-worth it."

You feel something snap in you. You lay your head on his chest, and you fucking sob, feeling the weight of everything crack your shell and reveal yourself, raw and open. You missed him so much. You can't believe it but you missed the way he'd wake you up at fucking eight in the morning on Saturdays with a text, how he'd run campaigns with you on Left 4 Dead 2, how he'd farm materials with you in almost half of your games, how he'd stay with you for movie marathons, how you both fit together, how you all fit together. You missed the pact you had. You missed the way Sollux and Eridan would banter, you missed how Feferi and Eridan were like fucking peanut butter and jelly, you missed how everyone and everything used to be. You miss it all and god, you were so stupid, you were so fucking stupid to abandon him, and the reason why he'd been so edgy and distant and angry and bitter and offensive and caused you to abandon him was the reason why you cut yourself for a year -- he was fucking depressed and you never saw it.

"I'm a fucking horrible friend," You gasp out against him, and hes sniffling too. You look at him and it cuts you open again to see him smiling. Not a happy smile--no, the smile of someone completely shattered, someone who'd given up and was waiting for death as an old friend.

"So 'm I."

"I'm sorry."

"So 'm I."

You cling onto him and you cry.

You're unsure of the future, but damn it all, you're willing to try and get him back. You want him back.

You hope he wants you back.

You think he might.


	7. Feferi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops, accidentally submitted an incomplete draft  
> here i couldnt sleep so  
> basically another filler chap sorry but not sorry

The earliest memories you have are happy ones. Despite the fact that your mother barely had time for you (a busy woman had her priorities) you were not a desolate child. You didn't understand how cruel and painful the world could be. Your earliest moments played out with you running through the expansive gardens of your childhood home, playing with your sister and your best friend and laughing as your sister pushed your best friend's brother into the fountain, and both you and your best friend laughing as his brother pulled your sister in with him. The screeches of delight and laughter as the two elder siblings started to pelt you two with pond scum seem almost as an insult to you at this point.

You hate that you understand why you still have nightmares of all the times that you found out how terrible the world was.

You avoid sleeping, at this point; it won't help, it can't help. No matter what Sollux says; what Meenah says; what anyone says.

Your name is Feferi Peixes, you are 20 years old, and optimism seems highly overrated at this point.

Perhaps that might be the lack of sleep speaking but the waiting has killed off any happiness you had left. You lay on your bed, staring up at the bland, peach coloured ceiling of the bland, peach coloured room of your bland, peach coloured life. It seems all so... drab. The glamour is gone. The beauty is gone. Everything is pain and misery.

After Karkat had come out of Eridan's room, he'd said nothing to you all. He'd spoken nothing of what he'd heard from your old friend, he regaled you nothing, he'd sat in silence and stayed that way for a solid half hour. By the end of said half hour, you thought Sollux might have shed a few grey hairs from worry. You thought nothing of it, thinking that what he'd seen—what hed heard—was enough to need a few moments of silence. You did not join Sollux in his worried pestering and frenzied interrogation of the younger Vantas because you yourself had been overloaded with information.

Eavesdropping was truly a terrible thing.

You'd never seen Cronus vulnerable before, you realize belatedly.

* * *

Your only defense was that you didn't mean to.

No one means to hear such terrible things that they shouldn't hear, you reason. 

You'd seen Karkat being led to Eridan's room; you felt envy, almost, but there was no way that you could truly feel any edge of animosity towards any of your friends. You didn't think you could, anymore, not now. Especially not now. You waited, sitting dejectedly next to Sollux, awaiting Karkat's return when you noticed vaguely Porrim, Kankri, and Cronus heading down the hall in the direction of the bathroom. Porrim and Cronus seemed particularly intent on god knows what, and Kankri seemed, at best, uneasy.

Curious to see if anything would happen, due to the nature of their interactions at times, you turned quietly to Sollux, looking amongst the few of you that remained after this length of time; Kanaya, Nepeta, Sollux, and you. No one else could bear to stay in the suffocating atmosphere any longer, abandoning ship with promises to inform those who were interested in any developments; frankly, you cannot blame them at all. The oppressive stench of death, sickness and despair is a wraith, sucking the energy and will out of you and your current state, you believe, could stand testament to the very real, very accute nature of the darkness that lingered in such places as this clean edifice.

"... Um. Be right back, Sollux, I need to fishen up a little, you know!" You chuckle weakly, feeling nauseous at trying to remain exuberant. Sollux looked over at you, seeming equally drained as you, nodding.

"Yeah. Sure. Jutht don't drown or thomething."

You can't help but smile a pathetic shadow of a smile at his attempt at humour. You stood up, then, politely, making your way after them, staying as quiet as possible as to not draw their attention. Frankly, they seemed absorbed in whatever they were squabbling about. Finally, frustrated beyond belief, Porrim grabbed both men by the arm, ducking into the men's bathroom, catching you off guard. What exactly was she doing?

You stand next to the door, seeing it not completely closed; you couldn't believe the opportunity you were given. So you stand, pressed up against the wall, barely breathing, and you listen.

"Vwhat the hell do you think you're doing, Por? This ain't no fucking proper place to talk, much less 'bout shit like vwhat you're prying at." Cronus, agitated.

"I have to agree with him, Porrim, please if we could just—" Kankri, distressed.

"I've left you two long to function on your own long enough and I will have no more of this sneaky business. Look, you've been implying some bad things Cronus, some really worrying things." Porrim, sounding definitely like she was having nothing of their deceptiveness.

"Look, if you're talking about that vwhole thing vwith vwhat I said about Eridan and I vwalking similar paths—" Cronus didn't sound anything other than uneasy.

Porrim cut him off again. "That is exactly what. Now  _talk_  and don't make me make you."

"Porrim, please—" Kankri was pleading with her, trying to defend Cronus from her barrage. But why was he so distressed about it?

"Kanny," She warned. "Cronus, this is linked. Your words and Eridan's behavior—... Latula and Terezi can help you if anything's wrong, legally. You know that."

"No, as much as the Pyropes hold themselwves in high esteem, they can't." The elder Ampora's tone was wavering and you held your breath; you'd never heard him sound like that. So vulnerable.

"Do you want Eridan to get better?"

"Por, that vwas a  _bitch_  move and you know it!" Cronus was yelling, then, causing you to jump. Your heart was thumping in your chest.

"I'm telling you, Cronus, there's something strange about this. His recent behaviors can't just stem from being cut off from his friends—"

"—Being  _abandoned_  by them—"

Kankri was silent; you couldn't hear a sound from him.

"—And Kanaya told me, before she and the rest of them lost contact with him, he was acting oddly, and from what she told me it was like he was depressed!"

" _Because he is!_ "

There was a silence, then, where no one spoke. Then Cronus's voice rose again, shaky and unstable.

"You 'member vwhen I vwas tvwelwve, right? I got really sad. I didn't like to talk vwith a lot of people, got angry n' selfish n' agressiwve. Got into a fight vwith Meenah n' all."

"Your mother died," Kankri said, full of compassion and sympathy; it was somewhat odd to hear that tone from him, so honest and earnest and steadfast.

"Yeah." Cronus's voice cracked, then. "Ma vwas the life of my family. Er lowved her more than anythin'. He vwent in to say good morning an— he came to me n' da in the kitchen, bavwling, saying mum vwon't fuckin' vwake up. She vwas sick, real sick. Not physically sick; sick in th' head. She was... not in a good place. She ovwerdosed too, y'know?"

"Oh, God-!" Apparently that was news to Kankri.

"Kan, s'fine. S'long done. Da went off the deep end after that. He newver let us liwve in denial. Told us, straight up, that our ma took herself avway. Vwe vwere just kid's, ya know? An' he just comes, an' tells us ma took her owvn life, she left us of her owvn vwill." He paused for a moment. "I know she had her reasons now. I had Latula pull up the legal documents and shit around her death. She'd been diagnosed vwith Alzheimers a month before." He laughed weakly. "S'plained vwhy he and ma stopped sleeping in the same room. Also vwhy she started acting vweird; she vwas forgetting things she should'wve knowvn. She vwas trying to end her suffering quickly, and trying to prewvent us—me and Eridan—from suffering. Didn't really vwork but I can't hate her for it, I guess."

After a pause, Porrim spoke up. "I suppose that it doesn't just end there."

"Da started..." A deep inhale, trembling and insecure.

"Cronus. You don't have to." Kankri sounded gentle and placating.

"... Started roughing us up. Bad grades? Got the paddle. Detention? Couln' stand up for hours after bein fuckin' beaten on the fuckin' Achilles heel in both legs. He vwas more... lenient at first. He 'specially vwas at least vwilling to not hurt the kid so much. I mean he vwas almost sewven; just a li'l kid, and so vwas I. Older vwe got, worse it got. The old warhound vwould send us off vwithout dinner if vwe so much as spoke too loud. Bastard started drugs, I think. For a vwhile he left us alone and god it vwas the best thing. The bruises actually started to disappear." Cronus laughed, before a harsh sob broke out. "Then he started blaming us vwhen the highs vwere harder to chase. Started using shit like riding crops and if vwe vwere especially bad, the vwhips. Hawving a history buff who had a fancy for torture methods and conquerors and vwars vwas pretty shitty really."

Your heart felt like it was full of lead.

"Jesus," Porrim whispered. "Why haven't you told anyone?"

"Cause vwe kinda did," Cronus replied; he sounded so weary and tired. "Uncle Ed—he vworks for the gowvernment. He vwas usually out of the country a lot. He came to vwisit an' he knew something vwas off. Could tell; Eridan was starting to spiral. I vwas a mess. He filed an invwestigation 'gainst my dad. I vwas almost 18; Eridan vwas 13. Uncle Ed an' Dad—they fought a lot. Vwe got caught in the crossfire an' it vwas hell. Eridan got more angry and vwiolent and I think thats about vwhen he got into a fight vwith Peixes and Captor an' got sent to juwvie for the rest of the year. Meanwvhile, I sought an escape an' I found that in the same vway that da found his. Left the house, left Eridan behind, because I vwas angry, I vwas hurt, I vwas miserable as hell and I vwas trapped in a dark place and it vwas dark an' clawing and I couldn't get free no matter vwhat I did and—"

At that point, Cronus was hyperventilating, and then you could hear Kankri speaking, slow soothing words. Porrim stayed blessedly silent.

"Da was gone after Kan sawved me from killing myself in a convwenience store bathroom vwith a razor blade. Eridan 'parently found his body. Hanging in the study."

You felt nauseous. You couldn't hear anymore. Your knees were weak. You couldn't, you  _couldn't—_

"Vwas about then that he started spiraling, I think. He vwas 14 vwhen the depression started to kick in full force. Refused to see anyone 'bout it until Uncle Ed drug him there kicking an' screaming. Gawve him some pills but he alvways puked them up or flushed them. Because I betrayed him by leawving him alone vwith that bastard he vwouldn't listen to me, vwouldn't beliewve me; kept tellin' me he didn't need pills to feel better, he needed pills to forget. So then he also got into drugs an' shit, spiralled far past the depth I vwas in, an here vwe are now."

You broke off your eavesdropping, then, finally unable to hear anymore. You barely managed to enter a stall in the lady's room before you expelled whatever food you ate for the past twelve hours.

* * *

You close your eyes, tightly, exhaling in frustration as you try to block out the mental images of the sad, distant look he seemed to get after he came back with Vriska in tow. You'd made your peace after he gave you and Sollux quiet apologies for the attack, and he'd seemed okay almost except for that sad, distant look.

And then when he'd started acting up again, you'd made the collective decision to cut him off instead of find out what had been  _wrong_.

How could you have been so blind, so utterly blind?

He needed help; professional help. He needed someone to talk to, he needed closure, he needed care and proper attention. He needed help, he needed hope where all his was lost. It seemed as though everyone he'd ever loved had abandoned him, and you realize in that moment that you further testament to that. His faults couldn't be excused; of course not. There was no need to. Forgive, but never forget, so never to make those same mistakes again. Things could be better again, though it wouldn't at all be the same because you all were not the same you used to be. Perhaps they could be better.

Exhaustion continued to permeate your very being. You so desperately wanted to sleep, at that moment, so to be able and ready for when your time came.

You clench your fists, tightly, and roll over, pulling your sheets over your head as you look idly over to your nightstand.

4:38AM.

God damn it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> food for thought: akira yamaoka - room of angel


	8. Eridan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another kind-of filler, sorry
> 
> eridans pov again

The therapists and the doctors and the nurses all got to be suffocating the longer you stayed here. Their medical professionalism gave them a touch of impersonality that made the room feel colder. Once you were properly healed enough, you were kept solitary to prevent you from harming anyone during your withdrawal. It was a good move on their part; everything felt like hell. Definitely, it didn't help the fact that you hated hospitals.

Really, there was no explanation for how much you hated hospitals. It was the one constant of your life when everything else seemed to fail. You would always feel this heavy feeling of dread and nausea when you were forced to stand one, and the situation only soured when your uncle forced you to come to collect what he called "evidence" of abuse.

You didn't care, to be honest. Atleast any pain your father had given you was real.

You hated your uncle--always had. He was too idealistic for you and he always ended up turning away when you actually needed him the most. When he came to your alleged rescue, he didn't. He simply ruined what was an already tenuous relationship between your father and you. You liked to do things for him, because even after pain and tears he would hold you and pet your hair like he did when mom was alive and you were a child apologizing and telling you that he was sorry and that he loved you.

When Cronus abandoned you, he still loved you.

When everyone else was gone, he still cared.

You let him hurt you because you desered it and he was doing it out of  _love_.

When your uncle interfered, he stopped loving you..

When your uncle interfered, your father hung himself.

For that, you will never forgive him. Not for the screams that died in your throat with your heart. Not for the pallid face that haunts your waking dreams. Not for the note that read  _I'm sorry, Eridan. Cronus, take care of your brother, for I broke him. Brother, save my boys. Sorry for the hassle._

Not for the way your father died in disgrace.

You digress.

Hospitals are terrible, awful places in any case, memories of bruises and tears and "Uncle please, I jus' w-wanna go home" and nothing but sinking dread and hot bile rising in your throat. But perhaps, you muse, mental hospitals are far worse. You feel like you're dying again, actively so, a feeling that isn't alleviated by the knowledge that Cronus hasn't visited and isn't visiting. You don't understand why he isn't  _here_. You feel more alone than you ever have.

When you hear the door open and you have enough of a mind to know that its not the nurses with their devils drugs or food--bland and tasteless and wholly uninteresting--you have a small, brittle budding feeling of hope in your chest. You are soreley disappointed yet again when you're met with the sight of your uncle instead.

"Hey, kiddo," The man says, though he seems to lack his normal enthusiasm, the enthusiasm that sickens you and makes you want to retch at the sight of him; that does actually manage to register as unusual in your head. You sneer, despite the hovering, unabating emptiness that plagues you, completes you, holds you hostage from the world.

"What do you want?" You growl out, shifting on your bed, somewhat hateful of the restraints holding you back. Your head is killing you; you feel painful and nauseous and empty and all you want to do is die; all you want is  _Cronus_ \--

"I'm sorry," he says, and you see red.

"Sorry for  _what_ , Uncle?" You snap out. "Ruinin' my life? Takin' dad aw-way? Takin' ewerythin' that fucin' mattered from me? Lockin' me up in this miserable hellhole? W-wantin' to actiwely contribute to my god  _damn_ demise?" You're furious and sad and scared and--

He puts a hand on your shoulder and it takes away your steam for a moment, simply stunned at the audacity he has to actually  _touch_ you after all hes done.

"Your father made his decisions, junior. He did love you, but don't mistake the abuse he gave you for his love. He was in a bad place at the end of his life and if you think for once second that being hit equates to being loved you're more wounded than I thought--"

You scream incomprehensible insults and cures at him, thrashing as much as you can to try and  _hurt him_ because oh, you are angry. God help you, you're angry and there is only these wretched bindings that keep you from attacking him.

"I HATE YOU!" You shriek in anguish as all of your emotions fly up in a storm that not even you saw coming. "LEAWE ME ALONE, FUCK  _OFF_ , GO DIE YOU WRETCHED BASTARD!" You sob once, your tirade broken by the sinking depression that comes abruptly and chokes you in its deathly grips. "W-where is he, w-where's Cro--...  _God_ _,_ w-where's Cro?"

Your uncle smiles grimly, painfully, and your heart flies into your chest to escape the wretched prison that is your abused and battered body. "Jail. I can't bend the rules, not even for him, and it doesn't help that he turned himself in."

You feel cold.

"Junior, please, we're trying to help you--"

"Get out."

He looks at you with a painful glance, mouth fixed in a firm line. You're going to lose your composure, and you're going to lose it very soon.

"Get.  _Out_."

"Eridan--"

"GET THE FUCK OUT BEFORE I RIP MY ARMS OFF JUST TO BITE OUT YOUR FUCKIN' THROAT YOU STUPID FUCKIN'  _BASTARD!_ "

You're blessed with solitude.

You cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> food for thought: theme of laura


	9. Feferi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dumb dumb filler chapter feferis pov but ugh im uuuugh

You find yourself alone for the moment and, to be honest, its almost daunting. This hospital is sterile and yet it smell of madness. You think you'd prefer the prison over this place. At least in the prison, the people seem alive; They aren't begging for death. Your ears ring with the sound of garbled cries and screaming of rage and anguish, so much negativity barely muffled by the weight of the locked door that holds off the hall wherein each of the patient's rooms lay. But definitely, none of the emotions are choked and held at bay. The despair and sheer helplessness, the lost hope, they seep out of the cracks and strangle off pieces of your soul.

When you visitd the prison, at least, there was some semblance of life. Cronus looked worse for wear, of course, but he didn't seem defeated. He seemed confused and guarded, yes, but at least he was alive.

* * *

 

"Vwhat are you doing here?" He had asked, voice low and venemous. You could tell he didn't forgive you. Honestly, you weren't sure if you could even forgive yourself.

"I came to tell you Eridan has been moved." It almost hurt to be the one to tell him that. He gave you a contemplating look before his frown became a bit deeper.

"Vwhere?"

You gulped and felt intensely weary; your bones felt like they were built of titanium. "Mental ward."

He swore loudly and you watched in fascination as the tips of his ears went red. It reminded you of Eridan who, when frustrated, would equip this stony visage--but the edges of his ears would always go red.

"You're frustratd," You stated, despite yourself. He gave you a conflicted look, as though he was taken aback.

"How--?"

"Your ears. They turned red, like Eridan's." You felt a bit downhearteded, then, remembering the good times youhad with him.

"Ah." He went quiet, then, looking down at his lap. You wondered what he was thinking, in that moment. What thoughts could be going on in his tumultuous mind? His expression had seemed thunderous, cloudy, almost foreboding in a way that you didn't register until you were looking back at it, now.

"How long? Are you going to be in here, I mean," You asked, hastily specifying you realized the question to be too vague, too accusing. The question asked too much.

How long did you resolve to keep Eridan dwindling, dying?

How long did you anticipate this happening?

How long did you want to die before Kankri saved you?

Yes, you decided, that broad question has the key to too many cans of worms.

He grunted in response to the question. You believed that the orange of his prison uniform made his red hair even more fiery than usual. It made him appear like a vengeful spirit. If the expression he wore matched his appearance, you might have actually been intimidated.

"Prolly a month at the least. I fucked up, Peixes, and I think you kinda get that. But vwhatewver. At least he vwas safe vwhen I vwas prowviding for his addictions. No one else could touch 'im and hurt 'im." And he just shrugged loosely, and smiled. "I ain't got a single regret in the vworld."

You stayed silent, almost feeling sorry for him. Instead of speaking, you turned your head down and sigh gently. There was a tepid silence between you two before he shook his head then, letting out a harsh exhale.

"Thanks for not makin' Kan hawve to tell me, I guess." And he just got up and left.

You had found yourself at a loss, then, looking down at the table at which you sat. He seemed closed off and melancholic, and honestly you had, at that moment, no idea of what to do.

* * *

You shake off the memory and you return yourself to reality, rooting yourself sternly in this painful, disgusting place that smelled of emotional decay and death. You take in a deep breath and approach the receptionists desk.

"Um, hello." You honestly lack all energy to even do this... this talking thing. You feel drained and exhausted and utterly overcome by your adversity. "I'm. Here to visit Eridan Ampora?"

"Are you family?" The receptionist asks idly, not even bothering to look up. You falter for a bit.

"Um, no, but--"

"I'm sorry, dear, you have to be family to visit patients."

Your heart rends a bit and you swallow. "But--"

"Those are the rules of the facility, hon, I don't write the rules. Family only."

"Please, he's my best friend--"

The receptionist sighs in exasperation, twisting her lip with the slightest bit of contempt as she continues looking at whatever she was doing. "If you keep on making disruptions, ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

You swallow tightly, ready to argue, but instead you jump with a startled yelp as a heavy hand falls on your shoulder. You look back and see a man that you barely saw throughout your entire childhood, but he is unmistakable.

"...Mr. Ampora?" Eridan and Cronus' uncle, of whom Eridan is the namesake of; a powerful and deadly man, you were very assured by your sister. He worked for the government, of all things, and in a really high-up and secret part of the government.

"Hello, Feferi," He says, and if you had describe how he looks in one word, it would be worn. His hair, although styled with careful and practiced precision, is starkly different from you remember; now, it is a very pale reddish colour, dimmed and faded with a salt-and-pepper style. He has acquired many a worried wrinkle from when you last saw him; his freckles seem pale and scant, compared to his two nephews, and his eyes seem to match the drab, drained palette that defines this regal man; his suit does nothing but starkly contrast his pale canvas, making the difference of him from your memory of him all that more apparent. It's almost poetic in a way, a statement on the world view that you've been exposed to. There is nothing more appropriate than this drab and comparably lifeless commentary on the situation in the form of a grown man looking weathered and entirely done with the world.

He makes a sigh, and you look him over again, growing more worried. Wrong; His posture is all wrong. He's slouched, defeated, and he looks miserable. "Eridan-- is not well. He's very... angry. I don't know-- hell. I don't know how to help him anymore. It's almost as if he doesn't want to be helped, Feferi."

You feel a chill go down your spine and you close your eyes, sighing. "...C-can I see him?"

Mr. Ampora looks at you with a weathered glance, sighing a bit before saying, "... I could attempt to pull strings, I suppose. The situation is a bit dire from my point of view, in any case."

You purse your lips as you wait as Mr. Ampora takes care of the paperwork and shunts about his full authority to allow you access, and you suppose you're happy that he has the ability to pull strings like this.

When you arrive at the room that you're going to enter, intimidation struck you. A cold sweat chilled the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. For a moment you wanted to flee; you didn't belong here, you weren't welcome here, and god, he didn't want you or need you.

Then you gather your wits and you open the door.

Your breath leaves your body as you see your childhood friend bound to the bed like a dog and you instantly rush forward, eyes wide and distressed and tears well up as heartbreak--no other word for it--roared through your heart, tearing it asunder.

"Oh, Eridan," You croak, miserably; it's almost as if he is a prisoner here. He blinks, tiredly, looking at you.

"...Fef?" He goes cross-eyed for a moment before squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head. "... 'un feel so good."

You never could have assumed that this is how things would play out. You don't think anyone deserves this; not even him.

"W-why're y' here." He asks, weakly, blinking tiredly at you. "W-where's-- Cro."

He sounds hoarse and is slurring almost ridiculously so. You bite at your lip, looking to the side. "He... He'll be here in a couple weeks, guppy."

He lets out a weak sob, then, shaking his had. "W-wannim. W-wan' my big brother."

You hate yourself intensely so as you curl your fingers in his hair, leaning down to gently kiss his forehead. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry guppy, he's a bit indisposed of right now. I'm here-- I'll be here, okay?"

He weeps greater now, body trembling. "Y'... hated me. Ain't nothin'. Ain' no good."

"No, you are, you ARE good, okay? You're good, you'll get better, we just. We didn't know anything, guppy, we didn't know. You needed help that we couldn't give you."

"... He didn't lowe me," He whispers, "Did he."

You pout. Perhaps its a good thing in this moment that you had eavesdropped. At least you can help him now.

"...What he did was not out of love, but no, he did love you. He loved you but he wasn't-- Okay. And right now, you aren't either. He was wounded just like you! And he was wrong, so wrong to hurt you like that. But you still have a chance to get better." She leaned down and kissed his forehead again. "You can get better, guppy."

He whimpers, quietly, in the back of his throat. "... S'pose its a good thin'," He rasps, "That. That they drugged me up 'gain. Otherw-wise I'd not be... so 'placent."

You smile weakly at him, continuing to stroke his hair. "I suppose there are ups and downs to these sort of things. Would you-- believe me, Eridan, if I told you that there are medicines that can help you get better? That can help, even if just a little, so that you can be okay?"

He shrinks back a bit and you think the action makes him look younger. "...Cro tried t' tell me that, too. I w-was. I 'as mad, Fef. I tollim to fuck off. Needed pills t' forget. Not to get better."

"You were wrong, but you can fix it. You can get better. You just--" You sobbed softly, then, putting your head down on his chest. "You need to try."

He shuffles a bit and you look up at him as he smiles sleepily at you. "...Can get betta, right?"

You don't know how exactly you managed to laugh and cry at the same time.


	10. Cronus

Your name is Cronus Ampora, and roughly about two months ago, you had your happy ending upended, uprooted, thrown into absolute chaos. But, you digress.

Your name is Cronus Ampora, and prison sucks.

Really, honestly, it does, and that's all you're going to say on that and you will never, ever dwell on your brief excursion there ever again. You see absolutely no point in dwelling on it even now, even as you're being properly processed and readied for release.

What you learn now, then, is that quite frankly, it sucks more is getting out. At least, it sucks more than anything to you, anyways. Because to you, getting out means getting shunted back into the shitty land of responsibility and pain and--

And especially taking in the pure unconscionable realization of _is that your uncle?_

And  _Kankri?_

You storm forward, feeling the whirling tempest growing inside of your skin, restless, untamed like a dragons fury. Your ears burn red hot with your anger, but you keep your face as passive and stony as possible, jaw tense. Why is he here, why is he talking with Kankri, what the fuck is going on?

Frankly, the worst of it is that he kept you out of the loop. You were deliberately cut off from the going on's of the outside world, and that was what rose your ire more than anything. The fact that your uncle, whom you had actually been on decent grounds with, once upon a time, had cut you out of your own brothers life?

Absolutely fucking inconceivable.

"So then," You snarl, unable to keep the icy venom from your tongue, "Vwhat a nice, lowvely, pleasant surprise vwe hawve here. Right? So fucking magical. Vwhat on evwerlowving fuck vwarranted this absolutely glorious union?"

The old geezer has the indecency to look shocked.

What a laugh.

"Or, I suppose, are you gonna keep that from me too?"

A cloud of irritation is not so subtle in its passage over Kankri's shoulders as his face closes off into mild disdain with your behaviour. "I do believe," Kankri said, tone clipped, "That seeing as you've met  _my_ parents, I can meet your only living parental relative, no?"

" _No_ ," You snarl, taking in a deep, controlled breath. "Not vwhen you all hawve been holding out on me about my fucking brother for this vwhole fucking time. Peixes the second has ewven been cowved, vwould you imagine  _that_? Fucking surprise there!"

"Cronus." The tone chills you, you're not going to lie. The way your uncle speaks, it doesn't really help that your father and him were twins. Course, it wasn't immediately noticeable when your father was still alive, considering how much older your father looked, but again, you digress. You remember that tone, even after all this time, and you feel your stomach boil, churn, and melt with the acidic and unwelcome feeling of unadulterated terror. You shove your feelings down with a tense roll of your shoulders, straightening your spine and lightly baring your teeth in an aggressive smile.

"Care to enlighten me? Cause I actually thought I could rely on you."

"There honestly hasn't been much I can tell you." You look at him-- _actually_ look at him, and you find yourself surprised, mostly at how much thinner he seems from the last time you saw him. Which, admittedly, was a while back. His hair is even more grayed, and he has dark circles under his eyes. He also sports a cane, and that in itself is a confusion to you. "Only Feferi has been visiting Eridan. And if she hasn't told you anything, it's because he didn't want anything to be said."

You find your anger cooling off, and only vague confusion and hurt is left. "Vwhy her?"

"...He hates me, Cronus. Is it really so surprising?" He sounds ageless and at the same time completely encumbered by his years, in a distinct flavour of tired that does not sit easy with you. You grimace, a bit, shaking his head.

"I can talk vwith him, I-"

Your uncle shook his head, lips pulling into a grimace. "It doesn't... Cronus, he'll make that decision. He's not a child anymore. Neither are you."

Hands clenched, you raise your eyes to level his. He seems encumbered, lethargic, exhausted, and frankly that scares you.

"... Are you okay?" The words sound small, palpably scared almost, and you feel pitiful, childlike, as though you're 13 again which is fucking incredible, considering you are an autonomous 25 year old man with a life partner and a reasonably financially stable situation.

At least, you used to. You're not so sure anymore.

You hope so.

God, you hope so.

"I'm tired, kiddo." His voice cut you out of your reverie, and you look up, brow knitting up in confusion. He smiles, wearily, shrugging. "I'm just. Really tired, you know? It's been... It's been rough, I'll leave it at that. Doesn't really matter, in any case."

Kankri shuffles, and you look over; he seems uncomfortable, frankly, and you concede, letting the subject taper.

"At any rate," Kankri speaks, voice rough for a few moments before he clears his throat, "I do believe visiting hours are still open. Where Eridan is. I imagine...?"

You take in Kankri's entire disposition, and you come to the belated realization.

Shit.

You're all tired.

You're all so fucking tired and worn down, eroded by the stress and strain of the events, worn down marble pillars against an acid sea of troubles. His hair is haphazard at best, his sweater is half-tucked in his jeans, he's paler than he should be, and he looks so, so very tired.

Frankly, it makes you feel guilty. Extremely guilty.

And the fact that he's thinking of you, immediately before even thinking of himself? The fact that he's being kinder than you could ever ask for, ever expect for yourself, suggesting you go visit Eridan first thing?

"... Maybe for a small vwisit," You concede, and before he can even expect it, you're talking again. "Then vwe're gonna grab a mowvie, a carton of ice cream, sit back and talk trash about how shitty it is. You're gonna go off on a tangent about all the problematic bullshit in it an' I'm gonna laugh an' listen like I alvways do, an' after its done vwe're both gonna agree newver to vwatch that shitty ass mowvie evwer again and then go out for a vwalk on the beach. Got it, Kan?"

He looks surprised, before smiling, and even though he looks as though he might collapse under the lightest feather landing on his shoulder, that smile brings a joy you'd almost forgotten back into your life.

You pull him close, arm around his shoulder, and walk out of that wretched place with your uncle tapering behind. You don't really notice whatever he's doing, frankly, because you're ruffling Kankri's hair, listening to his spluttering over it.

"Thanks, Kan. For evwerything. You know that, right?"

He smiles, wordless, and rests his head against your shoulder.

* * *

Eridan's drawing when you enter. He's sat over a desk, over a notebook, pencil-shading a picture; it's of a leafy seadragon, and your heart clenches as you remember Eridan's childhood stories of a flying seahorse steed. Because he'd loved seahorses, leafy seadragons, anything from that genus that resembled the caricature of long, splindly snout, fins, and flowing body. Feferi's sitting on a chair not so far away, talking idly; you hear Aradia and Nepeta mentioned in the conversation before she seems to notice you. Her talking slows, and she flushes up, though you're not sure why. The expression she wears is something like mortification, perhaps apprehension, possibly anxiousness. In any case, it doesn't stay in your mind long enough, as Eridan looks up, blinking, looking over to her.

"What's--" He looks over, to you, then, and you feel your throat clam up, constricting on itself.

He looks... different.

That's the biggest thing you notice as your vision blurs.

Feferi gets up, mumbling something muted, and she leaves quickly, shutting the door behind her. You don't really hear anything she says.

Eridan sets the pencil down, carefully, still looking at you; his brow furrows, and his lips are pulled into a tight frown.

"Cro."

He's standing close to you, not too close, but close enough for you. His hand moves, gingerly touching at your cheek, and it's then that you feel the uncomfortable feeling of wetness being smeared when you realize that the blurriness is from unwitting tears. You try to open your mouth, but nothing comes out, and it's then that you realize that you haven't actually seen Eridan like this in so long. He looks... he looks...

You don't have any words to describe it.

"Sorry," He says, and he leans into you, then, arms wrapping around your chest as he buries his face under your chin, and your arms dumbly move to reciprocate the gesture. How long has it been since you've properly hugged your brother?

You still can't speak, your jaw hanging loose and tongue completely useless; it seems to be swollen into cotton-form, something completely disgusting and you abhor it. You clear your throat, hearing the rattled, thick texture to it. "Oh."

He chuckles, shivering as he does so. "... Yeah, I can see where you'd get 'oh' from." He stalls for a few moments, and after a few false starts-- "I really am... sorry. I'm sorry you had to see me like that an' deal with me like that, n' I'm sorry for all the shit I put you through, n' I'm sorry that I caused this whole mess-"

That has a fire alight in your veins, anger bubbling venom into your heart and bleeding it an awful black. "It vwas  _them_ ," You spit, and he pulls back, looking at you, his face growing stonier.

"I'm not goin' to sidle the blame completely on them, Cro, cause that ain' fuckin' fair." He sounds so serious, too, but you still feel insulted.

"It vwas  _them_  vwho fucking--" He splays his hand over your face and you falter, blinking in surprise and confusion. He pulls his hand back, then, blinking at his mostly reflexive action. Despite yourself, you smile weakly, taking the opportunity to scrub at your face with your sleeve. "...Las' time you did that to interrupt me, I vwas 10."

"Twenty-fiwe years too long a time to rewiwe it?" You swallow, hard.

"...Better late than newver, ya know?" He nods, then, looking down at his lap.

"I ain' gonna blame 'em because I fuckin' contributed to my own fuckin' spirallin', Cro. Cause I could jus' as easily blame you for ewerythin', since you kinda enabled me." You cringe at that. "But I ain' gonna. You tried, Cro, ewen if you kinda went about it in all the wrong ways. Like-- we all kinda did it wrong. But that's what it's fuckin' about, ainnit? We gotta fuckin' get the fuck ower ourselwes an' fuckin' learn somethin' or we're all kinda fucked."

Dumb for words, you nod slowly, finding sense in his words.

Eridan looks off then, absent in his gaze, seeming also at a loss.

"...I'm glad," You say, you splutter, hands trembling and  _damn it_ you feel the itching cravings for a smoke ripping shredded layers out of your lungs in a double-bladed embrace that leaves a tingling sensation crawling up your back in two single file lines. "I'm glad that you're gettin' help. An' that you're gettin' better."

He smiles, and for once, it reaches his eyes, if only barely. But it's a start. It's an improvement. It's a reflection of hope, the way that the smile he wears scrambles to curl in his eyes, to reflect its talons in the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, to rip out the sadness and the suffering and leave content in its wake.

And in that moment, you think it could get better.

It could actually work again.

Maybe you could have your happy ending after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> might add an epilogue or do a couple one shot follow ups if people want it??  
> should i be nice or should i be mean and post a final-er chapter to rip your heart outs in an unnecessary and dramatic fashion cause like i liked this as an ending but i could be unnecessarily evil and ruin it for you


End file.
